


The Chase

by starfleetjedi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ahch-To, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Auror Ben Solo, Auror Rey - Freeform, Bodyguard, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Loss of Virginity, MACUSA | Magical Congress of the United States of America, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Mutual Pining, President Leia Organa-Solo, Quidditch, Quidditch superstar Poe Dameron, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfleetjedi/pseuds/starfleetjedi
Summary: Quidditch superstar Poe Dameron has quit the American National Quidditch Team, and rumors are he is signing with the British and Irish League. Fans across both continents are not happy, going so far as to send him Howlers daily. But when the Howlers turn into death threats, the MACUSA and the British Ministry of Magic need to come together to secure his safety as he travels to idyllic Ahch To island off the coast of Scotland to meet with a team.orFresh Hogwarts graduate and newbie Auror Rey Johnson has to work with MACUSA Auror Ben Solo who has ten years of experience over her and won't let that fact go.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 59
Kudos: 172





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: I know absolutely NOTHING about sports and athletes. ZERO. I have had to Google what a free agent is (little bit informed now regarding the basic definition). With regards to how a free agent signs with a team—I’m making all this up. I don’t fucking know if they can shop around like Poe does in this fic and if they have to go through tons of red Spellotape (they probably do), so please—manage your expectations. >__<

**POE DAMERON OPTS OUT OF ANQT CONTRACT**

by _Daily Prophet_ Sports Correspondent, Beaumont Kin

Poe Dameron is a free agent after opting out of his American National Quidditch Team contract last night.

Dameron started as Keeper for the ANQT in spring 2008 before switching to Chaser during summer that same year. Since he joined the team, ANQT has gone on to compete in every Quidditch World Cup, eventually seizing first place against the Irish National Quidditch Team in 2018.

* * *

**POE DAMERON SPOTTED IN SCOTLAND**

by _Daily Prophet_ Entertainment Correspondent, Tallie Lintra

American Quidditch player Poe Dameron, 31, has been spotted with Pride of Portree Keeper Meaghan McCormack, 27, in Scotland during the annual Festival of Ancestors. However, sources deny the meeting is regarding contract negotiations, insisting the pair is in Portree for personal reasons.

There is no indication that Dameron intends to sign with the Scottish team….

* * *

**HOWLERS HOUND POE DAMERON AFTER PUDDLEMERE UNITED RUMORS**

by _Daily Prophet_ Entertainment Correspondent, Tallie Lintra

A source close to Poe Dameron confirms that the former American National Quidditch Team Chaser is being inundated with Howlers regarding the rumored contract signing with Puddlemere United.

Ever since Dameron became a free agent in January 2020, there have been numerous speculations regarding his next steps. So far, he has confirmed that he will not be joining any American team, leading many to believe that he is looking to transfer to the United Kingdom.

A member of his entourage reports that they receive at least two dozen Howlers daily, majority of which are from American Quidditch fans who are furious with his decision to leave the National Team. A small fraction of Howlers is from Irish fans who are still bitter over the 428th Quidditch World Cup upset….

* * *

**MONTROSE MAGPIES CONFIRM TALKS WITH POE DAMERON**

by _Daily Prophet_ Sports Correspondent, Beaumont Kin

Montrose Magpies manager Cormack McLeod confirms that the team met with Poe Dameron last week to discuss signing with the team in time for the League Cup in August.

Dameron was once again spotted in Scotland in early May. Initial speculation pointed to him visiting rumored girlfriend, Pride of Portree Keeper Meaghan McCormack. However, McCormack’s camp denied any relationship beyond business between the two players.

Although McLeod’s revelation shed some light on Dameron’s whereabouts in May, he refused to comment further. There are no current vacancies with the Magpies so it is unclear what position Dameron will be signed up for.

* * *

Rey Johnson still feels and looks out of place in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. It has been a month and she has yet to get used to the sight of highly polished, dark wood floor and the peacock-blue ceiling greeting her every morning when she Floos in.

Everything and everyone around Rey are reminders that she is unprepared for the world outside of the secure stone walls of Hogwarts Castle. A fresh graduate at eighteen, it seemed only yesterday when she was wearing her school robes and lugging around her bag filled with parchment and quills. She missed everything about school—her structured timetable, daily feasts in the Great Hall, the four-poster beds in the dormitories, and even the cold Potions dungeon.

She had been so eager to leave, to make her mark out in the world. Outstanding NEWTs and the youngest Muggleborn Auror in the history of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement--she was slated to succeed in every endeavor she’d put her mind to as soon as she left Hogwarts. Instead, she had heaved her entire breakfast into the sink in the loo not ten minutes after she was shown her cubicle in the Auror Office. She was an impostor. A child in the Ministry amongst witches and wizards with years of experience under their cloaks.

The gold badge pinned to the lapel of her dark robes hangs heavy. AUROR, it boasts. Rey has never felt so undeserving of the title, despite the seven years’ worth of sleepless nights and hard work she had put into earning the coveted badge.

Rey takes the lift down to Level 2 to the DMLE. She exchanges short pleasantries with fellow Ministry employees before she steps out into a corridor lined with heavy oak doors. The heels of her boots make satisfying clicks against the floor as she turns the corner and pushes through a door leading to the Auror Office.

The headquarters is a large open area divided into small cubicles, which she weaves through until she arrives at her desk. She can feel eyes on her. The judgmental stares of seasoned Aurors who must think her unworthy of being in their ranks. It doesn’t matter that she was hired on due to her remarkable NEWT scores, top marks in training, and written recommendations from seven Hogwarts professors. Their eyes still twitch when they are introduced to the eighteen-year-old Muggleborn witch who skipped Junior Auror and went straight to Auror, as if she had defiled a rite of passage by gaming the system somehow.

Today, she isn’t going to let any of the cranky old wizards ruin her morning. It is a big day--she is going to be briefed on a new assignment. Her first real one, in fact. For the past month, all she has been doing is drafting warrants and filing movement logs for field Aurors—this was not her idea of hitting the ground running on her first day.

Rey doesn’t have to wait long. Head Auror Gial Ackbar strides into the office with a swish of his maroon robes before finally coming to stand in front of her cubicle.

“Good morning, Rey. Come with me. We are meeting them downstairs.”

Rey jumps up and races behind Ackbar, who hadn’t waited to see if she would follow him. A few heads that popped up from the tops of their cubicles to rubberneck disappear as she passes.

“Who are we meeting, sir?” she asks as she stumbles behind in the lift.

He presses Level 8 for the atrium and leans back against the grate as the lift starts to move. “Did I not tell you? I could’ve sworn I sent out a memo,” he mumbles, scratching his chin as Rey shakes her head. “No matter. I’m sure you’ve heard of Poe Dameron?”

“I’m familiar with the name. American Quidditch player, left his team earlier this year,” she intones.

“The most talented player of his age. You can only imagine the hubbub his resignation from the American national team has caused. They hate him over there, jerseys being burnt and whatnot.” Ackbar sighs.

“And now there’s news that he’s trying out for the Magpies,” Rey says. “Why doesn’t he just join the English national team?”

Ackbar shakes his head and chuckles. “Not that easy. Poe may be the best player out there right now, but he still needs to earn his spot in the national team. I think he’ll play with the Magpies for a year before he tries national. The British and Irish Quidditch League doesn’t much care who joins as long as we win the World Cup. Fans, on the other hand—“

The lift dings and comes to a full stop, then opens up to the atrium. Rey follows Ackbar past the Fountain of Magical Brethren, stopping in front of the gilded fireplaces to their right where Ministry visitors are arriving via Floo.

“You still haven’t told me what Poe Dameron has to do with my assignment, sir,” Rey pipes up as they watch a centaur Floo in and canter past them towards the lifts. It is safe to presume that they are waiting for Poe Dameron, but that is the extent of her guesswork.

“Ah, yes.” Ackbar pats his belly and glances at Rey. “You will be his security detail while he is here.”

* * *

Poe Dameron is much more handsome in person. The photographs in the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly don’t do him justice—they don’t quite capture the rich olive tone of his skin, the shine of his coiffed black hair, his low-lidded smoldering brown eyes, and his dazzling pearly smile. The ghastly green flames or the whirl of soot from the Floo doesn’t faze him as he steps confidently into the Ministry atrium.

Now is not the time to be starstruck. Rey rifles her brain for all the articles she can remember reading about him. He is thirty-one and single, if Meaghan McCormack’s statements are to be believed. He started playing Quidditch professionally at seventeen, having been snapped up by the Fitchburg Finches immediately upon graduating from Ilvermorny. And unlike most Quidditch players, he doesn’t revel in excess and is a relatively private person.

“Ackbar!” Poe exclaims with his arms open in greeting as he strides toward them. He and Ackbar hug briefly and clap each other’s backs. “It’s nice to see you, old friend.”

“I would have liked to see you again under different circumstances,” Ackbar says lowly.

Poe shrugs and turns to his side. It is then that Rey realizes Poe hadn’t arrived alone. Next to him is a burly man wearing dark robes and a stoic expression. He is much taller and broader than Poe, but he lacks Poe’s warmth and jovial approach.

“This is Ben Solo, Auror with the MACUSA. Appointed as my personal bodyguard by President Organa herself.” Poe playfully nudges his companion in the rib with his elbow. Ben reciprocates with a scowl.

“Wonderful to meet you,” Ackbar says as he extends his hand. “Ben Solo, if I presume correctly—”

“That’s me,” Ben drawls in a low baritone.

Rey wonders what Ackbar was going to say he presumed about the mysterious Auror, but before she could ask, Ackbar turns to her. “This is Rey Johnson. She is new to the force, but she is one of my best. Top marks in Hogwarts and Auror training—never seen anyone quite like her in all my years with the DMLE.”

“Rey Johnson, pleasure to meet you.” Poe takes Rey’s hand in both of his, raising them to his lips so he could place a light kiss on her knuckles. None of the articles mentioned Poe being a flirt, so her cheeks are still warm as she moves on to shake Ben’s hand.

A pair of witches whom Rey recognizes from Level 6, Department of Magical Transportation, pass by with beady eyes trained on the group. One of them covers her mouth and says something to the other in a hushed voice reserved for gossip. The presence of an international Quidditch star in the halls of the Ministry is starting to draw attention.

“Let’s head on down to Games. I know Snap is dying to see you,” Ackbar proclaims, once again leaving his companions behind without a second look in a rush to get to the lifts.

All four of them crowd an empty lift as Ackbar pulls the wrought golden grilles closed and pushes the button to Level 7. Rey bites her lip when she glances over and sees Ben Solo towering over the rest of them with a sour look on his face as Poe hums an unfamiliar tune.

The cool voice of the lift chimes, “Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office.”

Unlike the rest of the Ministry, Level 7 greets visitors with relative chaos. The walls are lined with various posters of Quidditch teams hung haphazardly, some held up with pieces of Spellotape. Memos whiz past their heads, into cubicles decorated with figurines of players preening back and forth along the hanging shelves, jerseys hung over the backs of chairs, and—was that a Snitch that just flew past Rey’s ear?

Around them, employees are craning their heads to catch a glimpse of Poe, who in turn waves as they pass by. Ackbar doesn’t bother knocking on the door with a nameplate that says “Temmin Wexley”; he turns the knob and pushes in with a flourish of his maroon robes.

Temmin "Snap" Wexley, Head of Department, looks up from the scroll of parchment he was reading and bellows when he recognizes the intruders. He is smiling brightly as he claps Ackbar’s shoulder and gives Poe a hug. Ben and Rey stand back as the men catch up. From what Rey can gather, Snap and Poe go way back, when Poe was just starting out with the Finches and Snap was a recruiter for the Appleby Arrows. They hadn’t seen each other in almost a decade.

Once introductions are dealt with, Snap and Ackbar exchange sober looks. Snap closes the door to his office and casts the Muffliato Charm while Ackbar conjures extra chairs around the desk.

Everyone is comfortably seated when Ackbar steeples his fingers and rests his chin at the peak. He turns to Poe and says, “Now, let’s discuss this death threat you’ve been receiving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Find me on Twitter @omgreylo**
> 
> There are a bunch of [National Quidditch teams](%E2%80%9D)
> 
> [Meaghan McCormack](%E2%80%9D) is the Keeper for the [Pride of Portree](%E2%80%9D), a Quidditch team based in Portree, located on the Isle of Skye in the Inner Hebrides
> 
> [Puddlemere United](%E2%80%9D) is a Quidditch team based in Dorset, England
> 
> [Cormack McLeod](%E2%80%9D) is the manager of the [Montrose Magpies](%E2%80%9D), a Quidditch team based in Montrose, Scotland
> 
> The [League Cup](%E2%80%9D) is a yearly competition amongst the [British and Irish Quidditch League](%E2%80%9D)
> 
> If you need a visual aid for Head Auror Gial Ackbar, refer to [Erik Bauersfeld](%E2%80%9D), the guy who originally voiced General Ackbar in RotJ and TFA
> 
> [Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardy](%E2%80%9D) is the American wizarding school located on Mount Greylock in western Massachusetts
> 
> The [Fitchburg Finches](%E2%80%9D) is a Quidditch team based in Fitchburg, Massachusetts
> 
> [The Magical Congress of the United States of America](%E2%80%9C) or MACUSA is the governing body of the US wizarding community
> 
> The [Appleby Arrows](%E2%80%9C) are a Quidditch team from the village of Appleby in North Lincolnshire, England
> 
> The [Muffliato Charm](%E2%80%9D) deters eavesdropping


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solo doesn’t even say goodbye, not to her or anyone else, and Rey thinks she’s never met anyone more unpleasant.

**INTERDEPARTMENTAL MEMORANDUM**

To: Mina Bonteri, Magical Accidents and Catastrophes

From: Dineé Ellberger, Magical Transportation

Re: YOU SHOULD HAVE COME WITH US

You will not believe it! Guess who Floo’d in just as Tey and I were leaving for brunch? POE DAMERON! QUIDDITCH POE DAMERON!!! I bet you’re about to snap your quill right now. I told you to come with us. I just knew something like this was going to happen.

* * *

**INTERDEPARTMENTAL MEMORANDUM**

To: Dineé Ellberger, Magical Transportation

From: Teemto Pagalies, Magical Games and Sports

Re: Re: IS HE THERE?

Yes. Closed door meeting with Snap and some Aurors. I will not eavesdrop. Don’t even ask.

* * *

**INTERDEPARTMENTAL MEMORANDUM**

To: Dineé Ellberger, Magical Transportation

From: Sash Ketter, International Magical Cooperation

Re: Re: DID YOU SEE HIM?

I don’t want to speculate; we don’t know what his business is up at 7. I hear he has Auror escorts, so it must be something serious. As your friend, I implore you to reconsider blabbing to the Prophet that he is here. It would be highly unprofessional—just my two Sickles!

* * *

**INTERDEPARTMENAL MEMORANDUM**

To: Larma D’Acy, Magical Transportation

From: Ebe Endocott, Magical Games and Sports

Re: One of yours

Hi, Larma! I hate to bother you with this, but one of your accountants has taken to lurking in our floor for the past half hour now. She says she is here to visit Teemto, but he just stepped out for lunch and won’t be back until 1. She will not leave, insists on waiting for him at his desk. If I’m not mistaken, she has inched his chair a few paces closer to Snap’s office. Please advise if she is here on official business. If so, I can have Teemto reschedule his meeting with her.

* * *

**INTERDEPARTMENAL MEMORANDUM**

To: Dineé Ellberger, Magical Transportation

From: Larma D’Acy, Magical Transportation

Re: See me ASAP

Dear Miss Ellberger,

Please see me at my office as soon as you receive this memo.

Sincerely,

Larma D’Acy

Head of Magical Transportation

* * *

The universe always seeks balance. Newton’s Third Law indicates that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This balance is why Poe Dameron, with his hard-earned League and World Cups and adoring supporters, remains unbothered by countless Howlers from angry fans of opposing teams. This is why he remains cool and collected, even _bored_ , as Solo answers Ackbar’s questions about the death threats. As if the mere idea of them is part and parcel of being an international Quidditch player.

Rey wishes she brought a quill and parchment with her, and even contemplates asking to borrow Snap’s supplies, but thinks better of it. Instead, reserves any questions for later and listens intently to Solo’s recount of events, committing the rundown to memory.

Ackbar, who had been sitting quietly just as Rey has, raises a hand that causes Solo to pause. “And when did these Howlers start coming in?”

“Best guess is soon after the Puddlemere United rumors. Poe never reported any other Howlers of this nature. It was only until his assistant, Mr. Nien Nunb, reached out to the Department of Aurors when he noticed a pattern—”

“I think you’re blowing this way out of proportion,” Poe interjects as he lazily picks on a hangnail. “Nien overreacted. He had no right to approach the MACUSA on my behalf—without _my_ permission—regarding _my_ Howlers.”

Solo twists in his seat to face Poe. “Oh, I agree. I’d rather be working on anything else.” His face is contorted with a scowl that makes Rey scoot back in her seat and the two other Ministry employees squirm in theirs. “Except that’s not up to me, so here I am babysitting you for weeks while you make up your mind about which team you’re going to be playing for.”

“Your mother—”

“My mother should not be wasting MACUSA resources like this. Aurors are not bodyguards for Quidditch players. If her constituents find out—”

“—took it upon herself to provide me security, even though I never asked. And I certainly did not ask for you, so you can—”

Amid the squabble, Rey’s eyes dart from Ackbar, to Snap, to Poe, until finally settling on Solo. “Wait.” The sound of her voice pierces through the argument, effectively silencing the Americans. “I seem to be missing something. Who are you, exactly?”

Solo’s eyebrows furrow as he studies her. What must he think of her at this moment? An inexperienced newcomer who has never been on the field and doesn’t even know him. Because is obviously _somebody_ and not just any run-of-the-mill MACUSA Auror.

“He’s President Organa’s son,” Snap chimes in.

Rey blinks. “President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America Leia Organa?”

“Yep,” Snap responds, popping the ‘p’ audibly.

Rey tries to remember what President Organa looks like based on grainy photographs on the Daily Prophet, and reconciles the image with Ben Solo, who is regarding her curiously. Not in anger or condescension. He looks like he is trying to figure her out, who she is, what she is doing in this meeting. President Organa always looked poised and warm in the photographs, so why is her son the complete opposite? And why did President Organa assign her son to guard a Quidditch player?

Rey is going to have a word with Ackbar later, because how dare he not brief her about any of this before the meeting. There is something deeper going on between the two men, if their hostile dynamic is anything to go by. She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs deeply. “You were saying there is a pattern?” she turns to Solo again, hoping to steer the discussion back to where he had left off. There will be a time and place for other sorts of questions later.

He nods at Rey in thanks. “Yes, the pattern. The Howlers predicted where Poe would be days before he’d arrive at his destination.”

“I thought they were being nice.” Poe shifts in his seat to pick up a bronze Snitch figurine that was fluttering in place on Snap’s desk. “‘ _Better be careful in Portree. Don’t want you falling off the cliffs._ ’ Or ‘ _Montrose might not be a good place for you. It would be a shame if you were found washed up on the beach._ ’” he says in a shrill voice with a surprisingly convincing Estuary accent. The tiny Snitch beats its wings frantically as he holds it up to his eye with two fingers.

“Anyway,” Solo says pointedly at Poe. “The Department of Aurors is already investigating the Howlers. Unfortunately, since they tend to go up in flames as soon as the message is conveyed, we don’t have any evidence to study. We do have other ways to track the sender. But that’s not what we’re here for.”

Rey scoots to the edge of her seat. Finally, the details of her first mission.

“Poe and the Montrose Magpies are close to signing a deal. However, the team wants to play with him first. It’s short notice—two days from now for a week,” Solo intones.

“Oh, yeah, McLeod told me about that,” Snap says. “He’s looking for a neutral venue to meet.”

“He got wind of the Howlers. Understandably, he doesn’t want to endanger his players, especially since the last Howler threatened not only Poe’s safety but those of the team’s as well.” Solo drums his fingers on the arm of his chair. “My uncle—through much prodding from my mother, no doubt—offered for us to use his private island for training. It’s secluded, no one really knows where it is, and Howlers can’t follow us there.”

Snap thumps his hands on his desk excitedly. “Hold on—are you talking about Ahch-To?”

Solo nods. Rey looks over to Ackbar, who only nods sagely, as if she should already know who or what Ahch-To is. She rolls her eyes and starts to raise her hand as she constantly did at Hogwarts, but drops it before anyone notices.

“I’m afraid to ask, but—Ahch-To?” she squeaks.

Snap is bouncing on his seat now. “Invisible island off the coast of Scotland. Ben’s uncle here, Luke Skywalker, discovered it almost two decades ago and he’s kept the location a secret. No one really knows about it. I would love to see Ahch-To with my own two eyes. I heard an Antipodean Opaleye guards the island?” He looks at Solo wide-eyed, imploring for confirmation.

“Opaleyes are native to New Zealand and they often migrate to Australia. I don’t think you’d find one in the Hebrides,” Rey recites before she could stop herself.

Snap deflates.

“We can spare more Aurors if you require additional security,” Ackbar says.

Solo shakes his head, the action setting lose a few strands of his dark fringe to fall into his eyes. Rey thinks he should do something about that—it’s distracting; even if she has only done clerical work for the past month, she still makes it a point to keep her hair out of her eyes. Unobstructed field of vision is important for Aurors, after all.

“Skywalker insists on as few people on the island as possible so as not to disturb the wildlife, all that. Just the Magpies and their manager, myself and one of your best to look after him,” Solo says, jerking his thumb in Poe’s direction.

“That would be Rey.” Ackbar pats the back of Rey’s chair.

She stiffens. This is not what she expected. Assist with the investigation on the British side, sift through Poe’s fan mail to detect suspicious missives, be on standby in case another Howler arrives—that’s what she imagined she’d be doing. She did not expect to be going on a trip to a magical island with an entire Quidditch team.

“I’m sorry—her?” Solo’s eyebrows have disappeared into his hairline as he looks from Ackbar to Rey, a limp finger pointed in her direction.

_What?_

Heat simmers in Rey’s chest and radiates outwards until she feels her ears grow warm. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?” she blurts hotly.

“How old are you? Didn’t he say you just graduated? I can’t be minding two chil—”

“I’m older than you!” Poe exclaims at the same time Rey gasps and hisses, “ _Excuse me_?”

“No offense, but you look like you’ve never dueled outside of a classroom. I need someone with experience, who can hold their own should an attack happen on the island.” Solo might as well have spat in her eye, with how he’s peering down at her over his ridiculously large nose.

The nerve of this Auror to come into her turf and insult her—he doesn’t even know her!

“I was at the top of my Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms classes.” She boils with rage inside but she tries to keep her voice steady, to not shake with indignation. “Besides, not all attacks require dueling. Poisoning is just as effective, if not relatively tidier, and I’ll have you know I was the best in Potions, too.”

Ackbar scoots his chair forward, blocking Rey and Solo’s line of sight of each other. Perfect timing, because Rey was seconds away from grabbing the matching bronze Bludger figurine from Snap’s desk and hurling it at Solo’s forehead. Who does this person think he is? She has half a mind to hurl a Knockback Jinx at him and see if that will wipe the patronizing look on his face.

Ackbar’s voice booms loud and clear, shocking everyone still and silent. “I can vouch for Rey—brightest witch of her age. I don’t doubt her competence and capabilities, and neither should any of you.” Rey calms her heavy breathing and unfurls her fingers from the chair arm. Exhibiting more hot-headedness when she should be acting professional won’t endear her to Ackbar and will only give the annoying Ben Solo more reason to talk her out of the assignment.

Ackbar nods at Snap. “Snap, as Head of Games and Sports, we’re counting on you to field questions regarding Poe’s and the Magpie’s whereabouts until training is over. Absolutely no one outside this room can know. It will help the MACUSA Aurors narrow down their search should a new Howler come up.”

Snap holds up a finger. “Before we close this circle, should we bring Larma in?”

* * *

Coordinating travel plans to Ahch-To for eleven people (Snap further deflated when told he will not be joining the excursion) proves to be a bit of a challenge but Larma D’acy, Head of Magical Transportation, is happy to help.

During their strategizing, Rey learns more about Ahch-To from Snap and Ackbar. She makes sure not to direct any of her questions at Solo, even refusing to turn her head his way.

The Unplottable crag is sixty-four kilometers west of the Outer Hebrides of Scotland, nullifying most modes of transportation. The island was discovered less than fourteen years ago by reclusive Luke Skywalker, retired MACUSA Captain of Aurors, who took it upon himself to blanket Ahch-To in heavy enchantments to ward off settlers, colonizers, visitors, and lost seafarers alike.

Even if Apparating into Ahch-To were possible, no one has a concrete idea of what the island looks like—and since Apparition requires the user to focus on their desired location, attempting to pop into a place one knows very little of could result in splinching.

Snap and Poe are quick to spout off suggestions, which Larma swiftly shuts down—flying horse-drawn carriages (too flashy), magical ships (too slow), flying by broomstick (too vulnerable against unpredictable variables mid-flight), thestrals (freaks out those who can’t see them).

Eventually, they settle on Portkeys to be authorized by Larma personally to keep lower-level Ministry employees from diving into the records. She mentions that since Poe’s appearance downstairs, some employees have been trying to figure out what he is doing in the Ministry and why he is escorted by the Head Auror himself. “I wouldn’t put it past anyone to dig around unsecured records for the tiniest clue to hawk to the Prophet,” she says gloomily.

Solo suggests multiple batches of Portkeys with different activation times to be approved by Skywalker himself, just for an extra layer of protection. Rey thinks this is an unnecessary extra step that widens the margin of error, but she is not trying to start another argument. She will be in close quarters with He-Who-Must-Be-Better-Than-Everyone-Else for a week so she needs to rein in her hurt feelings and learn to be civil with him. The silver lining is that she can put off being nice for another two days; today she will ignore him. Unless he apologizes before he leaves.

The meeting adjourns with Solo promising to Owl the Heads ( _the Heads_ , specifically, thereby excluding Rey whether he had meant to or not) when he confirms Portkey and ward logistics with Skywalker. Then he stands by the door as Poe shakes everyone’s hand jovially. Rey could swear Solo’s eyes narrow when Poe smiles at her and says, “We’ll see you in two days.”

Solo doesn’t even say goodbye, not to her or anyone else, and Rey thinks she’s never met anyone more unpleasant. A charming client that comes with an impolite accessory—the universe must think itself funny.

* * *

The next morning, no one turns their head when Rey marches into Ackbar’s office for instructions. In fact, no one has said anything to her regarding the meeting with Poe Dameron. To top it off, the Ministry is _not_ buzzing with whispers despite Larma’s warning yesterday. Even the Daily Prophet is mum.

As soon as Ackbar casts Muffliato on the door, he hunkers down on his chair and briefs her on her mission. The goal is simple: to keep an eye on Poe Dameron during their weeklong stay in Ahch-To, and to make sure no harm befalls him while the MACUSA and the British Ministry of Magic work hand-in-hand to track down whoever has been sending the threatening Howlers.

“And you need to work with Ben Solo,” Ackbar finishes.

“I get that,” she says, pouting a bit.

Ackbar sighs heavily. “I didn’t like his tone either. But just remember, he is the Auror on the MACUSA side doing the same thing as you. _He_ is not your responsibility—Poe is. Focus on Poe, and do a good job like I know you will.”

Rey inhales deeply until the breath rattles in her lungs and the dozens of ‘why’s’ and ‘what if’s’ in her brain retreat into silence. “You have so much faith in me and I haven’t even proven myself yet,” she says quietly. She has never been one to underestimate herself, so voicing her doubts to her boss makes her dizzy and scared. Not very Auror-like of her.

“Muggleborn witch, no family outside of your peers at the Muggle orphanage you were dropped off in. And yet you rose above every single pure-blood and half-blood witch and wizard in your year,” Ackbar says softly. “You are destined for great things, Rey. I believe in you.”

The lump in Rey’s throat makes her eyes water, but she is not going to cry in front of Ackbar. Years from now, she will look back on this mission and see it for what it is—a simple security detail job on an island in the middle of nowhere. It would be silly to turn over her badge for something so safe that Ackbar doesn’t even insist on a back-up Aurors.

“I won’t let you down, sir,” she swears, steely eyes meeting Ackbar’s.

He nods at her, satisfied with her renewed determination. “You may leave early today to pack. Ahch-To will be cold and windy, and you’ll be there for a week. You will be meeting here in my office with Poe, Solo, and another Magpie player tomorrow before sunrise. The other two groups will be Portkeying from different locations before you so they will have the tents, food, and supplies with them. Questions?”

She does have questions, but none of them seem important at the moment. Mundane questions such as ‘what will I tell the other Aurors if they ask where I’m going or where I’ve been?’ and ‘can I owl you if I have questions later?’ and ‘if Solo doesn’t stop being an insufferable prick, can I Stun him and toss him out to sea?’

She shakes her head and Ackbar dismisses her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahch-To was filmed on a real island, [Skellig Michael](%E2%80%9D), 7 miles west of the Iveragh Peninsula in Ireland. However, the Montrose Magpies are based in Scotland, so I’m brandishing my Creative License to move Ahch-To (Skellig Michael) higher up on the map—specifically, exactly where [St Kilda (an isolated archipelago) is.  
>   
> The ](%E2%80%9C)Antipodean Opaleye has pearly scales and pupil-less, multi-colored eyes and is considered one of the most beautiful dragons
> 
> The Knockback Jinx incantation is Flipendo


	3. Chapter 3

The Ministry is eerie at four in the morning. The place is practically empty—no soul in sight, no memos flying overhead. The snappy clicks of Rey’s boots on the floor echo across the atrium as she enters a lift to be whisked away to Level 2.

Her grip tightens around her broomstick, an ancient but trusty Niima Speeder bequeathed to her by the old woman across the hall from her flat. Maz said it once belonged to her nephew, who left the broom in her possession after he upgraded to a BTL-series. Rey thought about stripping the broom of its charms so she could shrink it for travel, but the thought of having to go through all that trouble, on top of the risk of damaging the broom in the process, made her change her mind.

There are no Aurors at their desks and no one craning their neck to watch her walk past this morning, thankfully. However, she sees that Poe and Solo have already arrived. Poe is sitting in an empty cubicle, slumped over a desk with his arms as pillows. His back rises and falls deeply and steadily as he naps.

Leaning on the table next to Poe are two fancy racing brooms. Rey recognises his infamous Black One, a custom T-70 gifted to him by Incom-Flytek a few years ago. The Daily Prophet made a big deal about it, dedicating an entire column about its one-of-a-kind black handle and bright orange tail, and its numerous charms and anti-jinx spells that skirt Quidditch broomstick regulations. She guesses the darker broom—all black handle and black tail with red stripes—must be Solo’s. From afar, she reckons it looks like a customised TIE broomstick.

Solo is leaning against the wall next to Ackbar’s office door, looking anywhere but in her direction. _No matter_ , Rey thinks, _as if I want to talk to him anyway._

She retrieves her willow wand from its holster strapped across her chest and flicks it, sending the rolls of parchment in front of her to fly into an open drawer. Next, she transfigures an inkwell into a feather duster that scuttles around her desk before flying to the tops of her cubicle walls.

“Good morning.”

Ben Solo is standing just at the entrance of her cubicle. Rey flicks her wand once more and tucks it back into its holster. From the corner of her eye, the feather duster plops down on her desk and returns to its original state as an inkwell. She stands and faces him, turning her head up high so her chin juts out. “Good morning,” she parrots back at him with a tone that conveyed absolutely no warmth.

“I’d like to apologize about how I came off the other day,” Solo starts, whispering needlessly to the nearly empty room. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“You’re not the first person to misjudge me based on my looks, and you won’t be the last,” she intones. It is a bitter mantra that looms down on her like a brewing storm cloud poised to unleash a deluge after one iteration too many. “This may be my first field mission, Auror Solo, but I promise you that I won’t get in your way. I know what I’m doing.”

Solo’s eyes harden while the muscles in his jaw twitch. “I hope you’re right about that. Reading the logs and actually living them are two different things.”

Rey bristles at his thinly veiled hostility. “Are you always this shirty to everyone you work with, or am I special because I’m a woman and I’m younger than you?” she hisses, her voice low to avoid waking Poe. “You don’t even know me. You don’t know what I’ve been through and what I can do. So don’t stand here in my office—”

“Look, I came over here to apologize, not start another argument—”

“Then you should think before you open your gob next time, yeah?”

Solo glares as he inhales deeply, sharply. His fists clench at his sides as he contemplates the next words to come out of his mouth. Rey glares right back, hands on her hips and lips pressed together in a straight line.

Then his gaze softens. “You’re right; we don’t know each other at all. I’m sorry I offended you.” His fists unclench. “But we have to work together for a week, so can we at least try to be civil?”

Rey drops her hands from her hips. “Right. Civil.”

“We don’t have to be friends. We don’t even have to like each other. Just do your job and I’ll do mine.”

“I got it the first time, Auror Solo,” she snaps.

He looks like he is about to retort, but he purses his lips instead. “Call me Ben.” It sounds like a request than a command, in a tone that lacks the bite it carried just a few seconds ago.

She recalls what Ackbar told her, that she needs to get along with Solo and act professional. Just for a week. “And you can call me Rey, I suppose.”

The heavy oak door bursts open heralding Ackbar’s arrival. “We’ve got less than five minutes,” he barks. Trailing behind him is a woman with sandy blonde hair and downturned eyes. She swings her bag behind her shoulder, shifts her broomstick from one hand to the other, and extends her right hand towards the Aurors.

“Hello, I’m Kaydel Connix. Magpies Chaser,” she says with a smile as she shakes both of their hands. The Aurors introduce themselves, after which, Ben hurries over to Poe and kicks a chair leg to wake him up. Poe lifts his head from the cocoon of his arms and blinks groggily. His hair is mussed and there are lines on his forehead from where his bunched up robes left imprints, but he manages to shake off the vestiges of sleep to greet Rey, Kaydel, and Ackbar.

Ackbar ushers them all into his office and asks them to gather around his desk. All five of them cram themselves into a tight circle, their bags with its shrunken contents and their broomsticks jostling between bodies.

“Sorry,” Rey whispers automatically when she accidentally elbows Ben in the hip.

“No worries,” he mumbles back then steps to his side to accommodate Rey. For a few seconds, his hand splays on the small of her back, ushering her forward so she is not sticking out of the circle. But he drops his hand as soon as she is situated more comfortably within the group.

Ackbar produces a small black iron kettle with a chrome handle from his robes. “This is your Portkey.” He taps its side with his wand. “You may use this at the camp as a kettle, but it will be your Portkey _back_ , so make sure not to lose it or destroy it. Details are inside for the exact time it will reactivate a week from now. Luke Skywalker may or may not meet you there. Isn’t that right?” Ackbar cocks his brow at Ben, who merely shrugs in response. “Right. Well, Aurors Solo and Johnson, you are responsible for making sure you return with these two.” He looks pointedly at Poe and Kaydel. “Are you all ready?”

Everyone murmurs their assent.

Ackbar holds out the kettle by the handle, and they all stare until Ben reaches for it.

“All hands in,” Ben instructs. Poe grabs the kettle’s snout, Kaydel touches the side, and Rey presses her palm against the bottom.

“I’ll see you here in a week.” Ackbar’s goodbye salute is the last thing Rey sees before the odd sensation of a hook pulling her inwards from her navel whisks her away.

* * *

Rey has travelled by Portkey only once before, during Auror training. It was an unpleasant sensation, being pulled into a whirlwind of colours and shapes, limbs flailing about, before being unceremoniously slammed back down to earth with her head still spinning and the contents of her stomach rising to her throat. It quickly became her least favourite way to travel, and she remembers now why.

Her eyes shut tightly in order to block the nauseating images swirling around her. She should have taken a Draught of Peace or at least a calming mint tea for her nerves.

As soon as the pulling at her navel stops and the soles of her sensible boots hit gravel, she releases her hold on the bottom of the kettle and sways on the spot. Cold clean air immediately hits her lungs and stings the back of her throat, and it makes her eyes water.

A pair of hands bracket her shoulders to steady her. And then she is leaning against something warm and broad and smells like earthy cardamom and fresh vetiver. Rey slowly peels her eyes open, thankful for steady and stable ground.

“I hate Portkeys,” she mutters at her feet.

“Who loves them?” Ben releases her shoulders and takes a step back from her. “What other modes of magical transportation do you not like, Rey?” The kettle swings from his elbow like a handbag while the handle of his broom rests on the crook of his other arm, and if he hadn’t opened his mouth just now, Rey would have laughed at the absurd image before her.

“Just the Portkey, _Ben_ ,” she seethes. He has the audacity to smirk at her.

Behind him, Poe is spinning on his feet and looking skyward. “So _this_ is Ahch-To.”

Rey gazes towards the calm cobalt sea that kisses a heliotrope sky dotted with wisps of hazy pink and orange clouds. The sun should be rising soon, judging by the dome of light breeching from the horizon.

“It’s freezing here, but Merlin, this place is beautiful,” Kaydel whispers in awe as she scans the craggy island around them. Where there isn’t rock, gravel, or dirt, patches of grass fill the space.

A couple of weeks ago, one of the Aurors announced she was going to Hawaii on a much-deserved weeklong vacation after a particularly challenging mission. She passed around a moving photograph of an aerial view of turquoise waters surrounding a rugged coastline of lush emerald green and bright copper sea cliffs. The Nā Pali coast on the small garden island of Kaua’i, Rey had overheard. It was breathtakingly beautiful—she didn’t think there could be that much green in the whole world. She could have stared at the photo for hours if the Auror hadn’t asked for it back.

Rey supposes Ahch-To has its own captivating charm, despite not looking exactly like the Hawaiian coast she pictured it to be during the past two days. Ahch-To is smaller and less steep, but still majestic as she looks up at the crags around them.

The air hums with magic—she can feel it seeping into her bones, raising the small hairs on her nape, and lifting her spirit up in exhilaration. She is standing on ground steeped in ancient magic, in a place where undoubtedly very few people have set foot before, and it is a humbling, overwhelming feeling. She furtively takes a few deep breaths to centre herself.

Beside her, Ben unfurls a small roll of parchment from the kettle. “Base camp is at the top. The clocháns are off limits, per Skywalker. I guess that’s where that leads.” He points to the steps cut in the rocks. They look dangerous, terribly uneven, and steep—one wrong move and one could end up breaking their neck and limbs on the long tumble down the side of the cliff.

“Clock what?” Poe scratches his temple.

“Clocháns, and I don’t know what they are but I guess we’ll see when we get up there.” Ben wordlessly hands Rey the parchment, guessing she might want to read it herself, and then he stuffs the kettle into his bag.

“Can we skip the steps and fly up instead?” Poe walks up to the stone steps and eyes them warily. “How many do you think there are?”

“Skywalker said there are six hundred seventy steps leading up to the campsite,” Ben supplies. A moue of disdain mars Poe’s handsome face.

“Can’t handle the hike up?” Kaydel asks cheekily.

Rey watches as Poe grins mischievously, as Kaydel cocks her eyebrow at him, as the two Quidditch players place bets on who’d reach the top first. Great. A 670-step hike at the crack of dawn, in slightly windy four-degree weather, all because Poe can’t say no to a flirtatious challenge.

Rey doesn’t know what possesses her to turn to Ben, but he huffs and rolls his eyes—not at her—as he breathes an exasperated sigh heads for the steps.

* * *

Hiking up the stone steps is a bad idea, not because Rey reckons it is too early in the morning for impromptu cardio, but because Poe and Kaydel keep trying to outrun each other to the top. As if they don’t care one bit that each step is unlike any other with their varying lengths and widths, and they are hiking on an unpredictable, precariously steep switchback with no handrails for support.

The only comfort is that at least the sun has risen, bringing much needed daylight to their trek, and both players have their brooms with them. She can only hope they have Kneazle-like reflexes that will allow them to jump on their broom mid-air should they topple over the edge. In any case, she has her broom in one hand and her wand in the other, ready to take action should the need arise.

“Were you in a Quidditch team in Hogwarts?”

Rey stops and turns back. Ben falls into step beside her and they continue up with Ben situating himself on the edge side. He may be gruff and insufferable, but at least he isn’t completely _not_ a gentleman.

“I wasn’t, no. I was either too busy studying or too busy getting naps in between classes. Never had time to socialize or indulge in non-academic extra-curriculars,” Rey says, suddenly feeling stupid for admitting her lack of a social life. She clears her throat and decides to turn the tables. “You? Did you play?”

“Seeker for Pukwudgie for a few years.”

“Pukwudgie? Your Ilvermony house!”

Ben nods. “My mom and my uncle were Wampuses. My dad, on the other hand, was a Thunderbird.” He sounds proud when he says it, almost envious. “Do you know anything about Ilvermony houses?”

Rey cocks her head to the side slowly and bites her lip. “Very little, just the house names. Are students sorted or do you get to pick your house?” When she steals a glance at him, he is looking straight ahead, seemingly keeping an eye on Poe and Kaydel who have paused their race to the top, instead climbing the steps next to each other just as Rey and Ben are.

“The sorting ceremony at Ilvermorny is not much different from Hogwarts, except instead of a Sorting Hat, we step onto a Gordian Knot on the floor. Then we have four carved statues of the house mascots facing the Knot. Each house represents an element, or a trait,” Ben intones.

Rey licks her lips and nods in understanding. “Just like the Hogwarts houses.” Fire and bravery for Gryffindor, earth and loyalty for Hufflepuff, air and cleverness for Ravenclaw, and water and cunning for Slytherin. She remembers the night clearly when she stepped into the Great Hall for the first time and the Sorting Hat was plopped atop her small head. It spent quite a long while debating with itself whether to sort her into Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, finally roaring “Ravenclaw!” when she muttered to get it over with already because she was getting hungry and she wanted to sneak out later to check out the famed Hogwarts library.

Ben has stepped a little closer to her, probably in an effort to be far as away from the edge as possible now that they are nearly a hundred meters from the ground below. Rey almost suggests linking arms; instead, she pulls her cloak tighter around her with her wand arm.

“Ilvermorny also has four houses. Horned Serpent represents the mind and favours scholars, Wampus represents the body and favours warriors, Thunderbird represents the soul and favours adventurers, and Pukwudgie represents the heart and favours healers.”

Rey trips on a step that is far taller than the one below it. However, before she even has a chance to drop her broom and wand or shield her face from the rocks, Ben catches her by the shoulders again. His blackthorn wand digs into her arm as he hauls her back to her feet.

“Thank you. Sorry.” She dusts her robes for imaginary dirt as she wills her heart to slow down. Is this island intent on unravelling her as a weak and clumsy witch? She breezed through Auror training without a hitch (except for the Portkey incident) so why is she suddenly tripping on nothing and embarrassing herself in front of this veteran Auror who already has a low opinion of her?

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing. Poe tripped on the same step earlier,” Ben says. His tone is casual, a ‘don’t worry about it vibe’ that eases Rey’s worries. So far he’s making good on his promise to be civil.

“You were saying about your houses? You step onto the Gordian Knot, and then what?” she prods as they continue to hike. Ben stands much closer to her now than ever before; their arms are practically touching. Above them, Poe and Kaydel are engrossed in their own animated conversation, their hands gesturing wildly.

Ben clears his throat. “The statues react if they want a student in their house.”

“And Pukwudgie reacted to you? How?”

“It raised its arrow,” he replies. “In my case, the Wampus also roared and the Thunderbird beat its wings.”

Rey whipped her head around to him, fascinated by his tale. “Really? What happens when multiple statues react like that?”

“The student gets to choose.”

“And you chose Pukwudgie? Not Thunderbird like your father or…” she trails off. Somehow, the question feels too personal, and she shouldn’t pry.

“I chose Pukwudgie,” is all he says.

Rey chews on her lip for a minute as they hike in silence. By now, the morning sun bathes the cliff’s summit in its silky orange glow, casting jagged shadows upon the steps. They haven’t been walking very long but her toes are throbbing from clenching too hard in her boots, a reaction from the stress of making sure she steps in the right spot or risk tumbling down.

“Look, we’re almost there.” Ben cocks his head to point forward with his chin.

The steps level out until they turn a corner to a narrow path leading up to a rectangular stone archway. Poe and Kaydel race to the entrance, followed closely by Rey and Ben. They have to duck to get through the archway, which opens up to a large court where four tents are arranged with two on each side of the path that runs down the middle of the clearing.

“We’re here!” Kaydel announces to the court.

A young woman with long black hair pokes her head out from a tent to their right. She looks around before her gaze finally lands on the new arrivals.

“Kay!” she squeals, rushing over to Kaydel for a quick hug. “So glad you made it. We’ve been here for an hour. Everyone is in their tents putting their stuff away.” She then turns to Poe and shakes his hand with a smile. “Nice to see you again, Poe.”

Poe introduces Rey and Ben to the new girl, whom they learn is Jessika Pava, another Magpies Chaser. Eventually, the rest of the team files out of their tents, having heard the noise outside, and Poe introduces each one to the Aurors.

“McLeod said he’d scout the area,” Jessika informs the Aurors when Ben asks for the missing team manager. “He didn’t go too far so he should be back soon.”

The Montrose Magpies are a nice bunch, Rey concludes. For the most part. The third Chaser, Rose Tico, whose head barely comes up to Ben’s shoulder, cheerfully expresses her excitement to start flying around the island.

The team captain and one of the Beaters whom Poe introduces as “just Phasma” walks up to Ben and pumps his hand firmly. “Your uncle Luke Skywalker isn’t here, but I would like to thank you, and in extension, him, for allowing us this opportunity to train in Ahch-To,” Phasma declares.

The Keeper, a pale and lanky red-haired man named Armitage Hux, nods curtly at the Aurors before disappearing into his tent. Meanwhile, the Seeker, Bazine Netal, a beautiful woman with dark brown hair and intense light brown eyes, merely nods at Rey before smiling at Ben and taking his hand, holding on to it a tad bit longer than anyone else has. Not that Rey pays attention to these kinds of things.

“So you’re the American Auror. Tell me, is Poe the only body you’ll be guarding while we’re here?” Bazine purrs as she surreptitiously rubs Ben’s thumb with her own.

Rey shivers at Bazine’s blatant, shameless line, delivered in a sultry whisper and topped with the slow batting of her lashes. She covers by mumbling that it’s cold, but neither Ben nor Bazine acknowledge that they heard her.

“Auror Johnson and I are here to keep Poe and everyone safe,” Ben says diplomatically. Rey wants to slide between them, to let them know that _technically_ , her exact job description is to keep Poe safe and secure, and if anyone on the team conflicts with her primary directive, she cannot guarantee their safety.

Speaking of Poe, he pops up next to Ben and swings an arm around the taller man’s shoulders. “Let’s go check out our tent.” In turn, Ben drops Bazine’s hand to peel Poe off him.

“Rey, you’re with us. Baz, talk you to later.” Poe motions for the Aurors to follow him towards the tent closest to the second archway at the opposite end of the court.

The tent, although small and nondescript on the outside, is moderately spacious inside and outfitted with Magpies colours in mind. Immediately in front of the tent flaps is a wide common area with a pair of black tufted wingback chairs and matching ottomans to the left and a short picnic table to the right. Towards the back spanning the entire width of the tent is a platform partitioned by a wall right down the middle, dividing the space into two “rooms” with heavy drapes for doors. The white drapes on each side are tied back to reveal a modest full-size bed on one side, and a bunk bed on the other, both in black and white striped sheets.

“Dibs!” Poe exclaims as he rushes towards the room with the full-size bed.

Not that the Aurors would fight him on that. He is the reason they are all in Ahch-To after all, so why shouldn’t he get the bigger, more comfortable bed? However, that leaves the bunk bed for Rey and Ben.

Rey slept in one for most her childhood in the orphanage. This isn’t anything new to her. What’s new, however, is sleeping in close quarters with men. And one of them will be just a few feet either above or below her. This is something that the orphanage and its high ratio of girls to boys, Hogwarts, and Auror training failed to prepare her for.

She trails behind Ben as he saunters towards the room with the bunk bed. He runs his hand along the dark polished wood of the top guardrail and says nothing as he surveys the tiny space.

“Do you want me on top or do you want to be on top?” The question flows out of Rey’s mouth like a cascading waterfall of word vomit, and she doesn’t realise its implication until Ben halts his inspection of the bed linens and visibly stiffens. He doesn’t look at her.

“I meant—what I mean to say—”

“Do you mind being on top?” Ben’s voice is dark and low enough that she’s sure Poe doesn’t hear it from the other side of the partition. “I’m heavier than you. Wouldn’t want to crush you if this bed breaks.”

Rey gulps, suddenly feeling pressure in her chest and heat below her navel. She laughs nervously. “Why would this bed break in the first place?” Her poor attempt at a joke falls flat when Ben doesn’t react.

His eyes are half-lidded and focused on her when he turns. A predator observing its prey, but in an unexpectedly non-lethal fashion. A different sort of hunger. The capillaries under her cheeks burst with warmth. And then he smirks.

_Is this wanker taking the piss out of me?_ Rey thinks vehemently. “I’ll take the top bunk,” she squeaks.

Determined to break the inexplicable tension and to prevent her hand from flying to his cheek, she steps to the side, away from his direct gaze. She dumps her bag into one of the empty trunks at the foot of the bed, and tosses her broom onto the top bunk. Her kit will have to wait to be arranged more neatly in the trunk later. Right now, she needs fresh, cool air and some distance from the tall, dark, and cheeky Auror.

“I’ll be outside,” she huffs as she sprints past Ben who has taken a seat on the lower bunk. “Poe, no more dibs on anything.” She hears Poe emit a comical wail as she steps out of the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maz' nephew's BTL-series broom is a nod to the [Y-wing Starfighter](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/BTL_Y-wing_starfighter)
> 
> Wand lore is fascinating--take a look at these articles regarding woods [[1](https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/wand-woods), [2](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Wand_wood)] and cores [[1](https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/wand-cores), [2](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Wand_core)]
> 
> [Black One](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Black_One), Poe's black and orange T-70 X-wing Starfighter from TFA, manufactured by [Incom-FreiTek](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Incom-FreiTek)
> 
> [Portkeys](https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/portkeys)
> 
> Here is [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tpdUUxgh6Q0) of the Nā Pali Coast in Kaua'i, Hawaii and a [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_0lk8BY0Vk) of Skellig Michael. Both different, but equally beautiful.
> 
> More [gorgeous photos](https://monastic.ie/history/skellig-michael/) of Skellig Michael
> 
> [This](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Ilvermorny_School_of_Witchcraft_and_Wizardry#Sorting) is how Ilvermorny students are sorted into one of the four houses
> 
> [Hogwarts Houses](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Hogwarts_Houses)
> 
> I already had a list of Star Wars characters and their houses per my headcanon, but [this list from Bustle](https://www.bustle.com/articles/145443-what-hogwarts-house-each-star-wars-the-force-awakens-character-would-be-in) seems to have read my mind because it is spot on.
> 
> Watch [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIgzCyuwwTE) if you need help picturing the trek from the bottom of the Ahch-To Steps to the top where the campsite is. When they approach the end of the hike and when they see the stone archway, check out the 11:55 mark.
> 
> Because I'm super extra, I created a [schematic map](http://imgur.com/a/FWVBkQS) for the team's campsite. I could only use the screencapping software on my work computer so don't @ me about the quality.


	4. Chapter 4

Rey knows very little about the Montrose Magpies manager Cormack McLeod. Like Poe, she gathers her information about sports figures from the Daily Prophet. She recalls a short insert about McLeod from an article regarding Poe’s rumored move to the team. According to the Prophet, McLeod had fired a Magpies Chaser whom he caught playing golf, a Muggle sport, because it was reportedly interfering with Quidditch training.

In Rey’s mind, McLeod one of those hardcore Quidditch fanatics, a man singularly focused on the game, whose entire life revolves around it like a Bludger poised to take out everything in its path that isn’t Quidditch-related. The idea of him scares her.

However, when she does finally meet the infamous manager, she is pleasantly surprised to find that he isn’t the frightful authoritarian that she believed him to be. He is all smiles as he greets her, Ben, and Poe with energetic handshakes.

One of the Keepers, a meek man named Dopheld, emerges from the tent he shares with the manager and approaches the group with a bundle of black and white fabric in his arms.

“I would like to present you with honorary Magpie uniforms,” McLeod announces as he grabs the topmost bundle and hands it to Poe. “If you’re flying with us, you’re flying in our colours.” He proceeds to dispense the last two bundles to the Aurors. “Now go have breakfast, get changed, and everyone will meet back here in half an hour.”

In their tent, Poe finds a chest that contains their food rations, so while he and Ben rummage around it to find something to eat for breakfast, Rey decides to change into the Magpies uniform in her shared room. She pulls the drapes closed and hurriedly strips before slipping into the jersey and form-fitting slacks then shrugs on the billowy white robe with black stripes and leaves the hood down. The material is surprisingly warm and soft, perfect for Ahch-To’s chilly climate.

She joins Poe at the table and snacks on a piece of toast and sausage. At the same time, Ben excuses himself to change. Once the drapes close behind him, Rey turns to Poe.

“I noticed all seven Magpies players are here. Are you trying out for one of their positions or back up?” Rey asks. The she adds sheepishly, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow Quidditch so I’m not even sure if there is such a thing.”

Poe chases his toast with a sip of pumpkin juice. “Good question. I’m trying out for all the positions.”

Rey blinks. “All… _all_ the positions?”

“Mhmm.” He takes another sip. “The Magpies want to restructure. At least that’s what McLeod told me. In the same vein, everyone else on the team is trying out for everyone else’s position, too.”

“But there are only seven players in a team.”

“Right.”

“And currently there are eight, including you.”

“Not by the end of the week.”

Rey chews on her toast thoughtfully. “So, you’re saying, someone is going to get sacked.”

Poe shrugs. “That’s all up to McLeod. They might not even want me on the team. Who’s to say?”

“And the entire team is aware of this?”

Poe slams back the rest of his pumpkin juice. “I hope they are,” he says, chuckling.

Ben steps out from behind the drapes, dressed all in black and white, a hard expression crossing his face. Rey gulps down her juice as her eyes rake over him. Without the bulk and unflattering silhouette afforded by his Auror robes, she can see now how impressively built he is. While her jersey is loose on her, his molds to the bulk of his chest. Even the fabric of his trousers is stretched tight around the broad muscles of his legs. If we could just turn around—

“You look good,” Poe comments as Ben slides into the bench next to him.

Rey nods imperceptibly but stops when she realises what she’s doing. However, she swears she sees Ben grin as he raises his mug to his lips.

“You should get dressed before McLeod starts poking his head in here,” Ben mutters at Poe.

“Fine, fine.” Poe sighs as he climbs out of his seat and heads to his room with his uniform in his hands.

Ben and Rey nibble on their breakfasts in silence, content on their newfound…camaraderie. He stares at a spot over her shoulder distantly, his chocolate eyes glazed over as he chews on a fat sausage and takes large swigs of pumpkin juice. There are a million things she wants to say to him, most of them questions. _Why did you pick Pukwudgie instead of Thunderbird or Wampus? What does your house mean to you? Why did the MACUSA President appoint you to this position? What is your relationship with Poe? Are you in a relationship with anyone?_

Rey nearly chokes on her toast at her last thought. Her small cough snaps Ben back into his body because he shifts his gaze to her curiously. To cover her embarrassment, she nods her head towards the broomsticks leaning against the back of the wingback chairs. “I’ve been meaning to ask—is that a TIE?”

“It is. A TIE whisper, an upgraded version of my old TIE silencer,” Ben murmurs. He sets down his mug to stare at his broom just as Rey has.

“I’ve never heard of those models,” Rey muses. Probably another unique broom like Poe’s Black One. He is the son of the President of the MACUSA, after all— _of course_ he would be gifted a fancy broom. Or he had connections to commission one for himself. In any case, it is a beautiful broom and she’d be lucky to even get a chance to test ride one.

As if he could read her thoughts, he asks, “Do you want to ride it?”

Rey whirls around to face him, her eyes wide and bright at his quiet, unexpected offer. “Can I really?”

“Sure. We can switch brooms for a bit.” He shrugs, as if he didn’t just ask to trade his sleek broom for Rey’s Niima Speeder, a broom so old the rider is constantly in danger of being stabbed with a splinter in their haunches. He must have noticed the apprehension in her face, because he points his wand to their room. “ _Accio_ _broom!_ ”

Rey’s broom hurtles towards them and Ben deftly catches it by the handle. The ancient broom shakes in his grasp, the twigs rattling faintly, but he makes no note of it. He reads the faded logo on the bulbous tip of the handle. “Niima, I see. This’ll be fine.”

“I know it’s a few decades old, but it still flies decently.” She suddenly feels the need to stand up for her hand-me-down, even though Ben hasn’t said anything disparaging about it. “The lady who lives across from me, she gave me the broom. I’m still saving up for a newer model, so any time now—”

“Rey.” Ben’s eyes are kind. “Your broom is _fine_.”

She nods and smiles into her mug. She glances at the TIE whisper again, admiring its sleek dark handle and its handsome black and red tail. A fitting complement to its owner.

Poe sweeps out of his room in the same uniform, which looks as loose on him as Rey’s. She starts to think that maybe McLeod gave Ben a uniform that is a size too small. Nevertheless, Poe looks dashing in the black and white uniform—and younger when compared to the coloured photographs of him in his navy blue and dark red ANQT garb. He runs his gloved fingers through his wavy hair and smiles at Rey when he notices her watching him.

Suddenly, a shrill scream rings out across the camp. Rey and Ben spring into action—Rey darts out of the tent while Ben commands Poe to stay inside before he chases after Rey.

* * *

Rey skids to a halt a few paces from her tent. Crouching in the middle of the pathway are Rose and Jessika, crouched down and surrounded by tiny, stocky creatures with brown and orange plumage and large round eyes. Despite being beakless, Rey thinks they are birds, with their webbed feet, stubby wings, and shrill chirps.

Rose holds out a hand to pet one gingerly. “They are so cute! What are they?”

“Porgs,” Ben says beside Rey. “They’re native to the island. My uncle said to watch out for them—they have no sense of personal boundaries.”

Jessika squeals as a porg hops into her lap. By now, the rest of team has joined the commotion; even Poe crawls out of the tent to see what caused the screaming. The curious birds stare up at the tall humans surrounding them, chirping gleefully at the attention. Eventually, McLeod shoos the porgs away (Rey watches as a few scuttle inside the tents) and directs the team to a huddle at the middle of the camp.

It turns out Rey was wrong about Cormack McLeod. Despite the positive first impression he landed with his cheerful greeting and thoughtful presents, he jumps straight into barking strict orders once the entire team assembles around him. Ben and Rey hang back as he makes the players do fifteen-minute warm-up flying exercises, then splits them into two teams, and assigns each one temporary positions. He doesn’t crack a smile at all.

And then they’re all on their brooms and kicking off into the sky and heading southwest where McLeod has conjured goal posts to float far enough from the nearest craggy peak.

Unlike her Niima Speeder, Ben’s TIE whisper is a smooth ride—the broom slices through the air like butter, and it keeps her steady as she leans for a turn and straightens out to zoom past the goal posts. She keeps a safe distance from the game itself, not wanting to be taken out by a Bludger or a Quaffle.

Rey tries to focus on the game. She really does. But it’s so hard to concentrate on the players when Ben constantly soars past her, his black and white robes billowing in the wind. He leans forward in his broom and dips low to skim the sparkling blue waters.

When he gets close enough to the rocks, the porg family that had been watching him from a rock shelf launch themselves into the sky excitedly. Their small wings could only get them so far, though, so they glide right into the water after flapping around Ben for a few meters.

He eventually comes to hover beside her. “You like it?” He nods at the broom.

“It flies like a dream, Ben.” Rey coasts circles around him to demonstrate. “I feel bad—I know how my broom flies. We can switch now, if you’d like.”

“We’ll switch tomorrow.” He runs a hand through his tousled hair and looks back in the direction of camp. “I was thinking of exploring the rest of the site past the tents after this.”

Her stomach does a somersault, which feels much like falling off her broom, so Rey has to grip the handle tightly even though she hasn’t moved at all. She can’t tell if that was an invitation to join him, or if he was simply stating his plans. So she doesn’t say anything.

“You can join me, or you can stay with Poe. Although I’m sure he’ll be fine alone for twenty minutes.” He smirks at her.

He really has no business looking so effortlessly attractive perched on her old broomstick, amidst the strong winds blowing his hair and robes in every direction. And— _is this what a crush feels like?_ Rey thinks to herself. Because she certainly has no business feeling this way for her colleague either.

“Yeah, I’ll—I’ll come. I’ll go with you,” she stammers.

His shoulders shake as he chuckles, and then he’s flying off to the other side of the posts, but not before giving her a short wave goodbye.

* * *

It takes two hours for Bazine to catch the Snitch, and it wasn’t even a competition. Dopheld, who was Seeker for the other team, hadn’t even noticed Bazine dive down to chase after the golden winged ball. McLeod then called for a recess and directed the team to land just outside the camp. “The short hike will do you good,” he exclaimed.

Rey’s descends gracefully on grass, which only makes her cringe when she sees Ben nearly stumble off the Niima Speeder upon landing. Luckily, Poe and Hux catch him by the arms before he breaks his neck on the gravel.

Beside her, the Chasers are giggling about something. Or someone.

“He’s got a nice bum,” Kaydel whispers a bit too loudly, causing Rey to whip her head over to them.

Rose notices her looking and beckons her over. “Do you think so, too, Auror Johnson? I think he looks fit.”

Jessika cackles as she swats Rose’s arm teasingly. “Rose! You don’t just ask an Auror _that_!”

“Ask me what? Who are we talking about?” Rey asks, bewildered. In front of them, Poe reaches an arm over his head to scratch an itch just between his shoulder blades, struggling immensely. “Poe is…all right, I guess.” _He’s cute, very charming_ , she wants to say. _But not quite my type._

It’s Kaydel’s turn to laugh. “No, silly. Auror Solo.” She points at Ben who is quietly laughing at Poe, now thrashing in an effort to reach the itchy spot. “Do you think he’s fit?”

“Stop, she’s blushing,” Jessika playfully admonishes her teammates as she peers at Rey’s face, which has, in fact, grown warm despite the cold wind.

“I—I am _not_! And no—I mean, he’s—he is—” Rey sputters, then straightens up and look away, not ahead, but to the opposite side of her so the Chasers can’t see her traitorous face. “He is my colleague,” she finishes rather lamely.

“Yes, well, Armie is _my_ colleague but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to wipe that scowl off his face with my mouth,” Rose teases. “I personally think you and Auror Solo would look quite lovely together.”

“Oh, hush—couples with size differences turn you on no matter what,” Kaydel quips. “That’s probably the only reason you like Hux this much.”

“Are you kink-shaming me?”

The Chasers burst into raucous laughter, prompting Ben, Poe, and Hux to look behind them for the source of the commotion.

“All right, ladies?” Ben calls.

“Never been better, Auror Solo,” Kaydel replies.

Ben nods, his gaze lingering on Rey for a few seconds longer than necessary before he turns to the front once more. A strong gust of wind catches on their robes, and Rey sees for herself what Kaydel meant when she said Ben has a nice bum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I commissioned the lovely [art of honorary Magpie Ben flying with the porgs](http://imgur.com/a/mmER8az) from the talented **gwendy85**. She completed it in under 7 hours, from midnight til sunrise—y’all she’s the GOAT. Follow her on Twitter (@gwendy), IG (@art_by_gwendy85), and Tumblr (gwendy85).
> 
> [Kylo Ren's TIE silencer](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Kylo_Ren%27s_TIE_silencer)
> 
> [Kylo Ren's TIE whisper](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Kylo_Ren%27s_TIE_whisper)


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